


Cookies in Kirkwall

by Maybethings



Series: May Be Promptin' [65]
Category: Dragon Age
Genre: Cookies, Drabble, First Time, Food, Gen, Prompt Fic, Qunlat, conlang
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-02-19
Updated: 2012-02-19
Packaged: 2017-11-03 23:23:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 259
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/387124
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Maybethings/pseuds/Maybethings
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Promptfic. Two Kossith discussing cookies. Their conversation is overheard by Hawke and Merrill sneaking upon them.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Cookies in Kirkwall

**Author's Note:**

  * For [](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts).



“There was something very interesting being sold near the docks,” Karasaad said with a nod to his brother.

“For you there’s always something interesting in the docks,” Karasten snorted, continuing to hone his spears with firm, even strokes. “Even the bas’ fish.”

“But the fish _are_ interesting—ah, leave it. That’s not my point. This is.” Karasaad dangled a bag of something below Karasten’s nose. The contents smelled of sugar and warmth and, inexplicably, home. He found saliva pooling unbidden in his mouth as he looked up from his work.

“Bread?”

“Something they called ‘cookies’.” The bas word came out strange and gruff in his voice. “Like a bread, but drier and sweeter. Try one!”

“Must I?” Karasten reached for the bag nevertheless and plucked out a small, bumpy object. He tossed the whole thing in his mouth and chewed. And chewed, and chewed, and refused to swallow.

“Well?” The scout had as much of a grin as a kossith ever gets.

“Kadan,” he replied, mouth full of heaven and eyes full of tears, “this is interesting indeed.”

Some distance away, Hawke and Merrill looked at each other incredulously, all ears and half-understanding, the conversation having been conducted in Qunlat. They hadn’t meant to sneak up or eavesdrop—but Hawke being Hawke, it had happened nevertheless.

“Were they actually talking about cookies?” he whispered to her, one eyebrow quirked as high as it would go.

“Either that or how to turn them into deadly weapons,” she quipped back. “I should introduce them to Pol’s hearthbreads. They’re easier to throw.”


End file.
